Chapter 1176: The Western Route Surprise Force

In the high autumn of the eighth month, even this remote southwestern corner had been steeped in thick autumnal hues. In the northwestern part of Dali, between high mountains and deep valleys, a large army was trudging along wild mountain paths that could hardly be called roads.

Surrounded by sheer cliffs and perilous peaks, dense vegetation and jagged rocks all impeded the advance. Marching was difficult—ahead of the army, over a thousand men were clearing the way, and it had been like this the entire journey.

Though no tall banners were raised, the identity of this army was easy to discern—the Han army. Setting aside uniforms and armor, in the entire southwest, apart from Dali, only the Great Han could arm and mobilize a force of tens of thousands.

Unlike the standard-issue uniforms and equipment of the Han army, this force had clearly adapted to local conditions—the entire army carried little heavy gear, everything optimized for lightness and ease of mountain marching.

Besides sabers, spears, bows, and crossbows, every man carried a woodcutter's axe, and along the way they violently hacked through the virgin vegetation, forcibly carving out a passable road.

There was no dedicated baggage train either; rations were carried on each man's person, officers and soldiers alike. Fortunately, the army had large numbers of horses, donkeys, and mules—especially Dali horses—and the use of pack animals lightened the soldiers' burden considerably.

Over the years, through trade and exchange with Dali, the advantages of Dali horses had been displayed to the fullest in these southwestern mountain forests. The southwestern authorities and common folk had imported Dali horses by the tens of thousands. Now, these short-legged horses with abundant endurance had become a powerful aid to the Han army's southern expedition.

Even so, for the Han army soldiers crossing high mountains and threading through valleys, it remained a grueling journey. If it were merely grueling, that would be one thing—but it also cost lives. Not to mention the danger at every step, during the southward march there were casualties every single day.

As with every previous Han army campaign, this southern expedition against Dali was not concentrated on a single route but split into eastern and western columns. Of course, this did not count the army on the Guangnan West Route, which served only a diversionary role—basically just going through the motions.

The eastern column, over fifty thousand men, was led by Deputy Pacification Commissioner Wang Renshan, departing from Qiongbu County in southern Sichuan, intending to pass through Jianchang, Huichuan, and Nongdong, then turn west to attack Dali's capital, Yangxiemie City. This was the main force and the main road—the most important route between the two states, and also the primary defensive direction of the Dali army.

Where there is a main road, there is naturally also a surprise route. This surprise force was the army described above, numbering over twenty-five thousand, personally led by Pacification Commissioner Wang Quanbin, departing from Dadu County on the Sichuan-Tibet border, lightly equipped, with the same target—the Dali capital.

These twenty-five thousand Han soldiers of the western route were all crack troops, including the fruits of Wang Quanbin's years of training in the southwest. Over five thousand had been conscripted from various native chieftains' tribes. In terms of actual combat power, they were considerably stronger than Wang Renshan's ostentatious eastern army.

This was destined to be a long and perilous journey. After crossing the Dadu River and following the river valley for a time, they plunged headlong into the high mountain gorges of the Yunnan-Tibet plateau. Along the way was essentially uninhabited territory—of course, such was the price of not taking the ordinary road.

From Dadu County to Yangxiemie City, the straight-line distance was about eight hundred li, yet actually making the journey, merely traversing those high mountains and gorges, more than doubled the distance traveled.

When the imperial edict arrived, it was just the beginning of early autumn. Wang Quanbin spent half a month assembling troops and arranging the expedition's affairs, then set forth. Now, nearly a month had passed, and this arduous journey still had no end in sight.

Morale and fighting spirit had both been worn down. The soldiers dared not voice complaints, but restless irritation had already spread through the ranks. Only the strict military discipline, coupled with Wang Quanbin leading by example, kept them silently persevering. When a sixty-year-old veteran general personally led the way, what more could anyone else say?

Of course, there was no other choice but to persevere. As for deserting—setting aside the punishment of military law—once separated from the main force in these deep mountains, one would most likely end up as a corpse left to rot in the wilderness.

The only thing that offered some reassurance was that this was not a dead-end road. During his years commanding troops in the southwest, Wang Quanbin had sent men to survey the geography of Dali thoroughly, and the western route's line of advance had been traversed several times by his scouts. Simply to chart out a single invasion route, over three hundred men had been lost in the process.

No matter how bold Wang Quanbin was in the use of troops, he would never dare gamble with the safety of these twenty-five thousand soldiers. Gathering an army of this scale in the southwest was no easy feat. And if either of the two columns ran into trouble, this southern expedition against Dali could be declared a failure.

Another stretch of treacherous narrow mountain path. Wang Quanbin dismounted and led his horse on foot. A distance of less than three li took nearly an entire day from the start of the si hour to traverse before the whole army passed through. Then, another hundred or so soldiers and pack animals were lost.

At dusk, the soft light of the setting sun spread across the vast mountain ridges. The troops of each camp rested in place. Due to the terrain, even setting up camp stoves to cook was impossible—from officers to soldiers, all could only drink plain water and gnaw on dry rations.

The prolonged march had left the Han army soldiers physically and mentally exhausted, without even the strength to complain. In the oppressive atmosphere, each man hugged his marching blanket and fell asleep on the spot.

Wang Quanbin's resting spot was relatively more open, but there was no special arrangement—he simply used whatever was at hand, piling up some brush and straw. As he was about to leave the area, he didn't even light a campfire.

Just like the soldiers, Wang Quanbin gnawed on hard, dry flatbread. For a veteran general past sixty, such a march was indeed grueling. Compared to before setting out, he had nearly shrunk a full size, his whole body covered in filth—one could smell a nearly tangible stench of sweat and grime from close up.

But under these circumstances, who could afford to mind anyone else? Before the forces split, Wang Renshan, citing Wang Quanbin's age, had suggested that he take the western route himself and let Wang Quanbin command the eastern column from a secure position.

Naturally, Wang Quanbin stubbornly refused. This was not him being obstinate for its own sake. The southern expedition had been in preparation for years, and even the invasion strategy had been formulated under his leadership—Wang Quanbin naturally had to shoulder the most important and most arduous task.

Of course, it was also because, according to his wargaming of the campaign, the greatest threat to pacifying Dali lay with the western army. Once out of the mountains and at the Jinsha River, after crossing it, they could drive straight toward Yangxiemie City.

Within Dali, the treacherous terrain and difficult roads were undeniable facts. But these geographical advantages also tended to lull people into complacency. What Dali relied on were the natural barriers of the Dadu River and the Jinsha River, along with the many tribes in the northeast—all of which would become obstacles to the Han army's advance. What Wang Quanbin had chosen was a route that could largely avoid these constraints. As for the frontal assault, he left that to Wang Renshan, while he himself went to strike at the vital point.

"This road is even harder to traverse than this old man imagined!" Yet after nearly a month of marching, even the iron-willed old general could not help but voice such a sigh.

"Commander!" As he sighed, a middle-aged general walked over, followed by a short, wiry subordinate: "The guide officer has been brought!"

"How much longer until we're out of the mountains?" Wang Quanbin nodded, wasted no words, and directly questioned the guide.

The gradually darkening sky cast its shadow over Wang Quanbin, seeming to add a touch of ferocity to him. The guide officer, a Yi tribesman, answered quickly despite his nervousness: "Reporting to the Commander, this place is already within Dali territory. To the east is Ruku Prefecture. Within no more than two days, we'll be out of the mountains and will see Dali's towns and settlements."

"Are you certain?" Wang Quanbin's eyes first lit up, then his tone grew even harsher.

The guide officer, speaking with a Yunnan accent, replied with certainty: "This humble one has walked this route twice before—certain!"

"Commander, the forward camp has already spotted some mountain folk. What the guide says should be true!" That Han army general also spoke up.

At this, Wang Quanbin's expression finally relaxed, and he asked: "Have those mountain folk been secured?"

The general said calmly: "All dealt with!"

Wang Quanbin nodded, his expression loosening further. Looking at the guide officer, he rarely showed a hint of a smile: "You guides have rendered great service. Once we get out and conquer Dali, this old man will petition for merit for you—no, I'll promote you three ranks directly!"

"Thank you, Commander!" The Yi guide officer was overjoyed.